What a Shame
by peacepoetrypotter
Summary: "What a shame, what a shame, to judge a life that you can't change! The choir sings, the church bells ring, so won't you give this man his wings? What a shame to have to beg you to see: we're not all the same!" 17 June, 1999. Draco Malfoy makes a desperate suicide attempt in the morning and by noon he's in the morgue. His secret fianceé is left to deal with the consequences.
1. The Daily Prophet: 17 June 1999

The Daily Prophet

17 June, 1999

DRACO MALFOY DECLARED DECEASED FOLLOWING SUICIDE ATTEMPT

Former Death Eater and Malfoy heir Draco Malfoy was found early this morning in the cellar of his good friend Blaise Zabini's cottage, by Zabini's wife Daphne. He was rushed to St. Mungo's and discovered to have consumed an unidentified poison and to have inflicted substantial puncture wounds in multiple areas of his body. He fell unconscious soon after he was found; After nearly an hour at the hospital, his heart collapsed beyond repair, and he was taken to the hospital morgue immediately.

The Zabini family will be the only people present for Malfoy's burial tomorrow. However, they refuse to plan a memorial ceremony without the consent and input of Draco's mother, Narcissa, who currently is in Ministry custody and awaiting her upcoming trial. Draco's father, Lucius, is also in Ministry custody but has not made any effort to communicate with his son. Draco's trial had been planned for 20 June. While originally it was popular belief that he would be pardoned, incriminating information was attained during the Ministry's investigation of his activities which shed light on him and established him as a criminal and perpetrator rather than a victim.

The consensus among the Aurors who are conducting the current investigation is that his impending trial was a main factor in his suicide. Following the War he reported a change of heart, but this was outweighed by the severity of the atrocities he was found to have committed. The Ministry has disallowed further disclosure regarding this. Recently Malfoy had been in better spirits, however, recount many of Malfoy's contemporaries, including Zabini, who considers himself to be Malfoy's closest consort. Zabini divulged knowledge of Malfoy's love interest, although, he says, Malfoy 'evaded any attempt for further detail.' One of the Aurors agrees that evidence of romantic involvement was ample in Draco's belongings. As of yet, there have been almost no identifying features by which to search for her, and the dearth appears intentional.

ABUNDANCE OF SUSPICIOUS MATERIALS FOUND IN MALFOY'S POSSESSION; POINT IN INTERESTING DIRECTION

For the past month, Malfoy has been staying with the Zabinis (Blaise, Daphne, and their two children) while on temporary release from Ministry custody. Among his belongings in Zabini's home Malfoy had hidden files and memorabilia. Some of the files were classified Ministry property, primarily related to his case, although there were others as well. Among his other belongings, as aforementioned, were many items which imply a romantic connection. Some of these would also serve to argue that Malfoy had great hope in being pardoned; many were definitively related to marriage and married life. Curiously, some of these appear to have been obtained from Muggle sources, as do some other things, including Muggle books and a Muggle newspaper from May 1997. The origins of these items have been disputed, as they suggest that his hatred for Muggles and Muggleborns was an act that he had as a boy, not his actual beliefs; one theory is that they were planted by someone else. The trouble with this theory is that there are few people who have been with Malfoy in the past few months, none of whom could be suspected of doing so, further implying that Malfoy was not the man he made himself out to be.

I, for one, yearn to know the purpose of the Muggle books on marriage. The sheer presence of such material presents the opportunity to answer even a deeper question about Draco Malfoy's true identity. Was his suicide a reaction to a forbidden love interest? Will the world ever know her name?

Aurors are currently examining these print materials for pertinent information, but so far have not found anything of use. The Ministry has prohibited the disclosure of any further information on Malfoy's case until its official release.

- Rita Skeeter


	2. The Burrow: 17 June 1999

**Harry stood in the bedroom** he and Ron shared, staring at shock at the newspaper in his hands.

"Damn it, Malfoy," he muttered. "You've really done it now."

Ron left the paper he was reading and looked up at Harry from where he was sitting on his bed. He let out a frustrated sigh.

"He was probably going to lose anyway and you know it. Not even your testimony could have changed his war crimes, Harry. He might not be sent to Azkaban for being a Death Eater alone, but war crimes aren't looked over that simply. Yes, he says he had a change of heart. Yes, he's stopped being as much of an asshole. But none of that was going to save his ass. Plus, everyone thought that he would act like the coward that he is and just take the sentence without much fuss, you know. I bet he wanted to do something out of their expectations, prove that he wasn't just a pretty face and a bad mouth, that he went on his own agenda. Draco Malfoy, committing suicide! Who would have ever thought?!"

"No one," Harry chided. "And now I have to be the one to face his parents! Now, Lucius was going to be an asshole no matter what, but what about Narcissa, who's lost nearly everything, and whose life depends on me! I don't even know if she'll be coherent for her trial!"

"It's in two weeks, Harry. Calm down."

"She just lost her son, without any notice whatsoever. She did everything for Draco, and she could convince him to do things he didn't want to, with far more ease than anyone else could. She lied straight to Voldemort's face because she wanted to see him. That boy was her world."

"That boy hasn't been a boy since he was twelve, Harry," Ron spat. "That was when things started really going downhill. He knew too much for his own good, and he didn't even fucking know that he did. He knew damn well exactly what he was doing in the war. He knew who he killed and who he tortured and how he did it. He knew where he tried to hide the family secrets-"

"He knew it was us, too," Harry interrupted angrily. "If the rest of them had known any sooner...They'd probably want to keep Hermione alive just for the fun of torturing her, and for information and such, and they'd take me to Voldemort, and they'd probably kill you right there, on that floor, in that house, since they already had Hermione for information. If he had told his aunt that it was me, there would be nothing left of the Order to speak of, and Voldemort would be ruling over the few witches and wizards who made it out alive."

"Are you trying to convince me that Draco Malfoy saved the world? Because it's not working," Ron condescended.

"Not that he saved the world," Harry shot back. "Just that he's not the evil bastard you make him out to be."

"That's not working, either."

"I noticed."

**Molly ushered the tearful Andromeda** gently into the Burrow, a large bag cradled in her arms; she plopped it onto the floor of the living room and held the door open for George, who carried in a smaller white trunk. The wind promptly slammed the front door shut. Andromeda sat down carefully on the couch while Molly rushed into the kitchen to prepare a pot of tea. Only a moment after sitting down Andromeda intensely broke into tears. George shucked his heavy jacket off and scurried over to sit next to her, laying his hand on top of her trembling ones.

"If they find her guilty..." Andromeda cried weakly.

"They won't find her guilty," George softly reassured her. "She has light charges to begin with, and she's got Harry's testimony to boot. She's going to be okay."

Andromeda leaned back on the couch, sobbing into her cold palms.

"I was just about to get to know him," she murmured, just as Molly flew through the doorway separating the living room and the kitchen holding a platter with tea. She set it down lightly on the table and strode over to the stairs.

"Children!" she beckoned loudly, and seconds later, almost comically in unison, both doors swung open and all five teenagers walked out onto the landings and sprinted down to the foot of the stairs.

"You really don't need to yell that loud, Mum," Ron complained.

"I didn't know whether you were up yet, Ronald. It's only just past three," Molly retorted, silencing him, then she shushed them all and whispered that Andromeda was coming to stay with them for a while.

"Wha-what about Teddy?" Ginny asked meekly. Ron barely restrained himself from scoffing, earning him glares from everyone else and a prompt slap from Hermione.

"He's with a friend of Andromeda's right now. She needs some time to herself."

"The Burrow is a terrible place to be if you want to be by yourself," Neville stated.

"Not if you all learn to play nice," Molly quipped, then turned and walked back to the couch, leaving the group to laugh at themselves.

"I think she's talking to you, Ronald," Ginny jibed.

"I think she's talking to both of us," he replied.

"I think you two should listen to her," Hermione griped, then pushed past Ginny and traipsed around to the rest of the living room, cheerfully greeting Andromeda as soon as she saw her. Ron was distracted by his own scowling, but Harry, Ginny, and Neville looked at each other sceptically, knowing that Hermione's demeanour was false. Ginny knew why she was distraught; none of the boys had the foggiest idea, except maybe Neville. He was more perceptive, more caring; it was plausible that he would see the connection. Only Ginny and Luna knew for certain, though, as far as Ginny knew, excepting Hermione herself.

_What are we even going to do? What __**can**__ we do? _Ginny thought. _There's got to be something..._


	3. The Burrow: 18 June 1999

**It was barely early morning** when Ginny woke abruptly to the sound of crying. Her first instinct was to rush to James' crib, but the little baby was sound asleep, so she took a second to catch her breath and then realised that Hermione was the one crying. She went and slid onto Hermione's bed, lying next to her and stroking her hair, her curly brown hair which was all Ginny could see of her. Hermione's head was buried in her pillow and she had pulled the covers up past her neck.

"'Mione, 'Mione," Ginny murmured, almost cringing at the pain that snuck out through her own voice.

"Don't tell me I shouldn't be taking it this hard, Gin," Hermione cried, lifting her head only to respond.

"'Mione, I couldn't do that to you."

"Anyone else could. Everyone else will," Hermione said spitefully, turning out of her position so that Ginny could her her entire face.

"Luna and I are the only ones who know, Hermione. And I think Neville may have a clue, but I'm not sure. How could anyone use it against you like that?" Ginny inquired, concerned and confused.

"Everyone's going to know, you know. That's what happens with things like this, Gin."

Ginny bit her lip, speechless; secrets had a way of getting out in the Wizarding World. And people - especially certain types of people - could be cruel, and use those secrets to degrade others, sometimes to the point of entirely unhinging their lives. That could easily happen with something like Hermione's secret, and the odds were about 98 to 2 that it would be very painful for the whole family to endure.

"I'm sorry," Ginny whispered as Hermione buried her head in Ginny's neck, and they lay together until they woke again to the sunlight streaming in from the window. Hermione was exhausted, having cried for nearly a day straight, and Ginny made her stay in bed when she herself tiptoed downstairs. She jumped when she realised that Harry, Ron, and Neville were sitting at the kitchen table whispering with each other, but rolled her eyes and kept walking towards the kitchen anyway. As she approached the doorway, Neville motioned to Harry and Ron, whose backs were turned in that direction, and the conversation promptly stopped.

"Morning, Gin," Ron said grimly, turning around in his chair to face her.

"Are we back to children's clubs now? What, no girls allowed?" she spat back instinctively, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No girl_friends_ allowed, actually."

"She's not my girlfriend anymore, Ron," Harry said tersely, eliciting a glare from Ron, which he returned, and each man's eyes were fixed on the other's for the following moment. Ginny groaned and rolled her eyes dramatically. Neville offered her an apologetic smile.

"Cut it out, you two," he said eventually, gently but annoyed, and they both turned towards him and then back to Ginny, who stood leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and her eyebrows raised.

"You should really get a treehouse if you're going to play like this, Ron, but in the meantime, do you know any more about Malfoy?" she asked brusquely.

"Gin, you know we can't tell you," Harry responded immediately. "Not until we publish our report and all. We would need express permission from Shacklebolt to do anything else."

Ginny sighed frustratedly.

"Worth a shot," she grumbled.

"We really should be able to talk about it," Ron began abruptly. "This whole damn family has been tiptoeing around it ever since it happened, like Malfoy deserved the respect or something!"

"Got something up your ass, Ron? Mind yourself," Ginny sneered.

"You can't say that! You're my little sister!" Ron yelled, walking closer to her.

"Obviously I damn well can!" Ginny retorted, turning back into the living room but stopping in her tracks once she saw her mother and Andromeda at the bottom of the stairs.

"What the bloody hell is going on down here?" Molly exclaimed, stomping over to the kitchen so that she had a clear view of both her children. "Ginevra! Ronald! Didn't I tell you that you're only allowed to be awake earlier than your father and I if you don't cause any ruckus?"

"Yes, mum," Ginny replied firmly.

"Ronald!" Molly yelled. Ron trudged over through the doorway.

"Yes, mum?"

"You absolutely need to start treating your sister with respect! She's an adult now, too, you know!"

"No, she's not!" Ron screamed. "She's my _little_ sister!"

"Do you realise that I am married and have a son, Ronald? Not to mention that I'm older than Luna," she sniggered spitefully.

"Shut up, Ginny," he scoffed.

"Wait till your father comes home, young man," Molly admonished.

"What kind of filth do you think we are, the Malfoys?"

"Ronald!" came a piercing scream from the landing outside of Ginny's room. Hermione stormed down the stairs and into the living room.

"What, is that offensive? Is it cruel to insult some coward who just fucking OFFED themselves? He's got a lot worse things than_ slander_ going against him, especially where THIS family is concerned!"

"You _don't_ know the whole story, Ronald," said Andromeda, standing at Molly's left with a hand on her chest to steady herself. Her green eyes were practically on the verge of tears, and it could be heard in her voice.

"Come again?"

"Not many people have really experienced what the Death Eaters are capable of, and I don't believe you're one of them," she stated in an eerily gentle tone. Ron looked to his mother, unsure how to respond, but she acted as though she did not notice, and he shifted his eyes back towards Andromeda when she continued speaking.

"I grew up part of that family. I grew up hearing the same dogma as Draco, seeing my family do just about everything to muggleborns, and to people they called traitors, from scorning to torturing, and being pressured into that world. The Unforgivables were used as often in my childhood home as your mother charms her knitting needles. In the first War Voldemort held his headquarters in my home. My family were the first to take his Mark, and I -" she paused and cried for a moment, then steadied her breathing again. The house was silent except for everyone's breathing until she spoke again.

"I fought against them, I fought them head-on in the First Wizarding War, as part of the original Order. I was disowned almost immediately after finishing school, when I married Ted. But the Death Eaters, my family, they didn't need me. I was able to get out. My sisters...my sisters both supported the Death Eaters, they had enough people, our family was in good standing with Voldemort. There was no need to force me into anything. But my nephew - you know some of what he grew up in, but I don't think any of us can really imagine what it was like to be playing with your cousin one day and then have your father put in prison and your entire life changed in that instant. With what Lucius did, he trapped Draco into what he eventually had to do. They'd hoped for more than one child, but by the time he got out of Azkaban they were practically incapacitated to even raise one. Two powerful family trees on your shoulders, and the only son - anything his father did was automatically going to hit him tenfold. He didn't have an option, Ronald. If he had so much as hinted that he didn't want to be part of what Voldemort was doing, he would have been tortured and killed almost immediately. He was smart enough to know that."

"Not smart enough to do anything about it! Knowing it doesn't mean anything if you don't even try to get out of it at all!" Ronald protested.

"How are you so sure he didn't?" Hermione fumed. "What do even know about him at all?"

"Enough to know that we're better off with him dead," Ron jeered.

"Maybe _you_ are," she snapped, then began to strut forcefully towards the staircase, but Ron grabbed her arm before she made it across the room. She shoved him away but planted her feet where she was standing rather than going further.

"What do you know about him that we don't?"

"I know that he's lied about far more than you know he has, and that half the things he took credit for were not his doing. I know that he was willing to die in a heartbeat for his mother - and for other people - and that he had the nerve to go behind all of the Death Eaters' backs and cheat them."

"A change of heart does not mean-"

"Have you never wondered why all those muggleborns are still considered 'missing', Ron? Why not one body has been found?"

"Well, yeah, but- wait. They can't be-"

"Alive? Because they are. Every single one of them. Draco Malfoy snuck every one of them back into the muggle world. He said they were dead so that Voldemort wouldn't send anyone after them, because they were people the Death Eaters wanted, people Voldemort thought would be important, who would have information that he could use. All of them were said to have died honourable deaths, because he never got information from any of them. He told the Death Eaters that they all died having refused him the information, that not one of them gave in, and in a way they did die. They live under different identities and almost all of them changed their appearances. But he didn't kill any of them. He didn't torture any of them."

"Where the hell'd you hear a story like that?"

"I was there, Ron, I helped him, I watched it all happen."

"You w-"

"I went back to the muggle world multiple times, but never for long. He made sure that I could go between without being caught."

"Why didn't he ever say anything?"

"He was the second spy," Neville realised. "McGonagall said that we - the Order, that is - had two spies within the Death Eater ranks. We knew the first was Snape, but she said the identity of the second wasn't to be revealed to more than a couple members, for the sake of his safety."

"So much for safety," Ron jeered, earning himself a room full of displeased glares. "What? It's a fair point!"

Hermione sighed heavily, then turned away and went back up to her room. She collapsed on her bed, exhausted and sobbing again.


End file.
